Yes, after a great deal of wrangling, she finally said the vehicle was in a workshop for painting, and I could take a look at it. She arranged the visit, so my wife and I took a cab to the workshop, about 20 kilometers away. I wasn't feeling great after a hormone injection from the day before, but I powered through. We spent nearly Rs. 2,000 on the cab, but seeing the minibus was worth it—it was spectacular! Spacious legroom, ultra-comfortable seats, space in the back for luggage, and a cordoned-off driver’s area with high seating. My wife and I were impressed and very happy. 

The family pickups were planned from four different locations, with mine being the last since I had to arrange breakfast. My son and his family had arrived, but I kept telling him I had a bad feeling that something might change at the last moment. I couldn't fully trust the operator.

The night before our journey, the lady gave me the driver’s name and phone number, asking me to provide him with the pickup addresses. When I asked about the registration number of the vehicle, she assured me it was the same one I had inspected. I called the driver, which made me feel a bit better. But then, the bombshell dropped. Late at night, I got a call from another man saying the minibus was still at the workshop, the painting unfinished due to rain, and a replacement bus with a different driver would be sent. I was furious. 

I called the lady and gave her a piece of my mind. That’s when I learned the truth—the vehicle belonged to another operator, and the lady was just a commission agent. She didn’t respond again, but the vehicle owner called to reassure me the replacement bus was just as good. What could I do? I had no choice but to notify my family members and share the updated driver details late that night, asking them to be ready by 5:30 a.m. I felt guilty and anxious, unsure about the new vehicle. Sleep eluded me as I wondered whether this replacement would disappoint us all. 

The bus arrived at our house around 7:30 a.m. I boarded with trepidation, still fuming. The air conditioning was good, and the seats were decent, but it was no match for the original minibus. I kept grumbling until my son calmed me down. My family, on the other hand, thought the bus was quite comfortable, with great legroom. It was a semi-sleeper, and the differences were minor, but I couldn't shake off the feeling of being cheated. Everyone reminded me that this was standard practice among operators, and we were helpless. Eventually, I begrudgingly accepted the situation. 

Whenever we encounter bad service, we always vow to leave scathing reviews online—but let's be real, those vows fizzle out once the journey ends. That’s exactly what happened here. I just let it go. What would it achieve, anyway? 

But the trip itself?

Contd. 328. Energy, Synergy and Company - Part 4